


Coffee Date

by outonalonelysea



Category: Glee
Genre: First Date, Kadam Week 2013, M/M, kadam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outonalonelysea/pseuds/outonalonelysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long time, Kurt had thought he'd never go on a first date again. But through all the newness of New York, he's learnt that change often occurs for the better. Written for Kadam Week 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Date

Kurt drums his fingers anxiously on the laminate top of the little cafe table, absentmindedly wondering whether the lack of other clientele indicates “hidden gem” or “horrible coffee”. This is weird. This is  _weird_.

He had thought he’d moved to New York in full awareness of exactly how sheltered a life he’d been living. He had accounted for the fact that previously unthinkable things like 24 hour dry-cleaners or eccentrically dressed career drunks singing on the subway would just become a part of his life. But there were new changes and new possibilities he hadn’t accounted for. Like that he would be waiting in an unfamiliar coffee shop, on an (until now) unvisited street for a first date with a relative stranger whose surname he doesn’t even know. God, even his shirt’s brand new. After 18 years of regularity and familiarity, when all the changes he faced were small and gradual, yeah, this is  _weird_.

As if there weren’t already enough unknowns in this equation, Kurt’s mind decides to start unpicking the things that had seemed concrete. Like, is this even a date? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s got that wrong. On the one hand, Rachel had seemed to think Adam was interested. On the other, it wouldn’t be the first time she’s got that wrong either. And she hadn’t even been there. Besides, as the one who’d made the move, it was really Kurt’s signals that were setting the tone for this occasion. Which, not a comforting thought. He just hopes that his comment about Blaine conveyed the message “gay and unattached”, rather than “lonely, heart-broken, and hung up on my philandering high-schooler of an ex”.

Just as he’s decided to distract himself by googling any obscure romantic and/or sexual connotations of the  _plié_ , a cold (ominous, his anxious mind supplies) gust of January wind follows the source of his nerves through the door.

Nerves that halve the second he sees Adam’s (so far) perpetually grinning face.

‘Hey! I’m not late am I?’ he asks as he sits at the empty place across from Kurt, who wonders if it’s even possible that that accent is sounding cuter than ever.

‘No, no,’ Kurt replies breathlessly. ‘I’m a little early.’

‘So you’re either generally punctual or specifically  _juuuust_  a little bit keen. A good sign either way,’ Adam says with a wink.

Kurt tries not to blush. That goes about as well as it ever has. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ he asks.

‘A cappuccino would be great, thanks.’

Kurt goes up to the counter and orders two cappuccinos, hiding his grimace as the man with the gall to pass himself off as a barista pulls their shots and makes their drinks, flouting every rule of the noble art of good coffee making that Kurt had learnt in his brief time in a Lima Bean apron. So not a ‘hidden gem’, then.

But once he’s brought their drinks to the table, and they’ve both got through the inevitable, yet false, expressions of interest in recent meteorological conditions, he finds that the horribleness of the coffee doesn’t really signify.

Because this thing with Adam, it turns out, isn’t weird at all. Adam is so chatty, and friendly, and easy-going, and warm, and Kurt finds it so easy just to talk to him. Had this not been the case he probably could still have managed, living with Finn means Kurt has had to contend with much less articulate conversational partners, but this effortlessness is such a relief. Their conversation is so light and casual that Kurt can’t worry about flirting or being flirted with, sending or reading signals, or the etiquette of pointing out a foam moustache. He just says what comes naturally the way it naturally comes, and is saved from his moustache dilemma by utterly failing to hide his snort of amusement at its first appearance. Adam is not mortally offended, but Kurt feels the need to redeem himself, chivalry-wise, by fetching a napkin.

After ninety minutes of friendly discourse on topics of mutual interest; (‘I just don’t see how  _Downton Abbey_  can keep up its viewership without Dan Stevens and his face.’

‘It pains me everyday that I moved away from a country with him in it.’) topics of differing opinion; (‘A moustache.’

'I just think it would suit him. It would be era appropriate, too.'

'You’re actually suggesting that he cover up part of his face.'

'…a very small part.'

'Adam, if the earlier foam moustache incident taught us anything, it’s that even a very small moustache can have a devastating aesthetic effect.'

'Cruel remarks aside, I want his moustache even more if it’ll make you make that noise again.') and pertinent recommendations; ('…called  _The Line of Beauty_ , I don’t know why seeing attractive actors in gay roles is so appealing but [he certainly doesn’t hold back](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxlX6eZqozs). If you can look past the 80’s setting and what that means for the state of everyone’s hair I think you’d really enjoy it.’

'…'

'Your slackjawed stare into the middle distance there, should I take that as a sign you’d like to borrow the DVD?'

'…'

'…I’ll bring it to the next Apple’s rehearsal.') they dispose of their cups, now empty of the horrible coffee, and make their way back out into the chilly winter air. On the empty sidewalk, they turn to face each other.

'Well, I’m that way,' says Kurt, indicating over his shoulder.

‘Then I guess this is where we part,’ Adam replies with another of his affecting grins.

‘I guess so.’ Kurt’s nerves are creeping back in, as if reproaching him for discovering whether Adam would rather be a chambermaid or a scullerymaid in an early 20th century manor house setting, but not managing to ascertain if he was actually considering their afternoon an official date.

‘Thanks for this, Kurt. It’s been really good getting to know you a little better.’

‘Same, and thanks for coming. I’ve had a very nice time.’ Apparently Kurt’s nerves have decided to play it boringly safe with the adjectives in light of particular uncertainties.

Adam’s nerves, on the other hand, seem inclined to throw them a bone. ‘Me too. It was a  _very_  nice first date.’ And with another cheerful grin, he turns and goes on his way.

It’s not until he gets home that Kurt realises he still doesn’t know Adam’s last name. He isn’t sure if it’s due to the persisting giddiness his afternoon’s brought about, or his ongoing growth into a mature, adult New Yorker, but he finds it doesn’t bother him a bit.


End file.
